Clear Daybreak
by TamariChan
Summary: Nothing is ever easy, not for her. Written for Drama Discus for Decathlon at fiefgoldenlake . proboards . com. Marek Swiftknife/Eiralys of Cavall, in the Bitter, Twisted Lies series.


**Disclaimer: **The world and characters of Tortall belong to Tamora Pierce, not to me.

Series: Bitter, Twisted Lies  
Event: Drama Discus  
Words: 737

Clear Daybreak

"The buildings here are beautiful," she says.

"Yes," he says, gazing up at the old turrets and walls of the castle. "This is your home," he says, and it is not a question but it is.

"This is Cavall," she says.

Eiralys does not take him into the castle. They walk around the fief, unmindful of the storm raging above them, and she does not seem to care about the curious stares of the villagers so he acts like he doesn't, either.

She leans up against a wooden fence, staring at a windmill spinning frantically in the gusts, and says in a voice so soft he barely catches it, "I don't belong here, do I?"

"No," he says. "You don't."

She turns to him, her eyes glittering in the low light and her face wet with rain (tears?). "I'm never coming back," she says in a low, cold voice like the layer of melting snow just above the grass.

Marek says nothing.

Looking back at the windmill, she shakes her head twice and water drips down her cold, reddening cheeks. "It's not as easy as you think it is."

"I never said I thought it was easy," he says.

She abruptly pulls away from the fence and slides under it. "Come on," she says when he only stares at her. He grumbles but slips through the fence as well.

He follows her up a small incline to the windmill. Her steps are lighter and quicker and when he gets to the top, she is already gripping the boards of the door and she pulls it open before he opens his mouth.

"Cathrea and I came here when it was all too much," she says, stepping into the dark space of the windmill's foundation.

"Cathrea's the priestess?" he says.

She nods and closes the door behind him, leaving only a sliver of light to illuminate the cramped space filled with tools, shelves, and a cot. "But back then, she was just my little sister."

"Back then?"

She sits on the cot and pulls her knees up to her chest. "People change and get older and people hurt you," she says bluntly. "And the gods know it wasn't all Cathrea's fault, or mine, or even Sunarine's, but after what happened to her, things changed."

He sits and puts his arm around her, letting her lean against him and grab his hand.

"I love y-".

SLAM.

"Da, I told you she'd be in here-" it's Margarry's voice. "Oh…" she trails off.

"What did I tell her about coming down here?" Wyldon says from outside. Eiralys tightens her grip on Marek's hand.

Margarry just stares at them in the brighter light. Eiralys stands and tugs Marek out of the windmill, gently pushing Margarry out of the way and coming face to face with her father just as the storm picks up.

He does a double take at seeing Marek behind her and his face hardens. "I cannot believe you would bring-" he gestures at Marek- "_this_ to our castle."

Marek stiffens but it is Eiralys who lunges forward, arms behind her and teeth bared in a snarl. He wonders, somewhat fuzzily, just who the Rogue is here.

"You may not speak like that to me," she says in that same cold voice (_I'm never coming back)_ in a sharp contrast to her posture. "And you definitely may not speak like that to him." Her eyes rake Wyldon up and down before she glances back at Marek. "Just who do you think you are?"

Wyldon starts to speak, and Marek can tell that he will match Eiralys cold word for cold word, but Eiralys cuts him off.

"I do not really care," she says. "I only thought that it would be best to tell you in person that I am marrying Marek and not the haMinchi you selected." She rolls the last word off her tongue, and the bitter speech echoes uncomfortably in the rushing winds.

Wyldon's lips press tightly together and he stares at his eldest daughter.

"Very well," he says. "I wash my hands of it."

Eiralys looks at her expressionless father. "As you do," she says, and Marek sees the resemblance between them even more in that moment.

She turns and walks down the hill, and Marek follows. As they walk through the village, she does not wipe away the rain (tears?) from her face so he doesn't, either.


End file.
